Ireland: The Dublin "Suburbs" of Raheney, Howth, Malahide, and Bray

Pro tip, when in Dublin get the unlimited 3 day (or more) tourist bus pass. You get unlimited access to buses and trains for a very large area, including each town/suburb of Dublin you're about to see.
With that out of the way...

Raheney
For some peculiar reason I have no pictures of Raheney. So you'll just have to trust me when I say it's a lovely peaceful town with a nice little park, a couple local bars, a cheap supermarket, and your standard old church and ruin-like graveyard. Pretty much your typical suburb in every way. But it was our base for our time in Dublin and suited us just fine for that purpose. Away from the bustle of the city, but not so far away as to make it difficult to get to other places from there. I highly recommend it if you're looking for a nice spot to get away but still get a taste of Irish culture and hospitality.

Howth
This little harbour town first attracted us for its castle. "A castle only a few train stops away?!" I thought, "We have to go!" Little did I know that this would only be the first of a hundred castles we saw in Ireland, but that's for another post!

An interesting thing happened on the way there, however. As we were approaching the castle there was a path up to the left that seemed to lead somewhere. Curiosity drove us along the way, only to discover a beautiful church.

Seemingly alone, we walked along, trying the locked door, checking out the grounds and finding something that resembled ashes in the grass. Curiosity sated, we started to head on to the castle...when we spotted an old man. He was sitting on a bench by the entrance, a bench I had sworn was empty not moments earlier. He waved. We walked over and he introduced himself as Jim (though his accent made it sound like Gem), a man who came there quite often (likely for years) to sit and think and write long letters to his loving daughter (though not to his son, who didn't seem to care for him). He asked where we were from, as he had met a surprising amount of people from all over the world who got detoured from the castle and ended up at the church. When we told him we were Americans, he brightened up.
It turned out that he and his parents had actually been prisoners of war in WW2, and that they had been rescued by Americans when he was around 5. One of his fondest memories was this American soldier giving him some lifesavers candy. He had actually made his way over to America at one point, and describing seeing lifesavers in the shop, he brightened even more.
We left him to continue his pages-long letter to his daughter, and given the surreality of the experience I had to seriously question whether we had just met a sweet old man, or a cheerful ghost, forever writing letters to his daughter and greeting those who strayed from the castle's path.

Our first castle and beautiful church down, we made our way to the city harbor, an area we enjoyed so much we came back a second time to see it all.

An entire row of restaurants were lined up alongside a docking area for ships, often offering fresh fish from the boat anchored mere meters away. A lighthouse kept watch on the other side of the harbor, while a giant wall offered a spectacular view of the ocean and an island in the distance.

A closed off area told of a local market boasting 20 different shops on the weekend (which we went back for without having cash, meaning a good deal of it we only got to look longingly at). But the real highlight came when we spotted an odd and very old-looking building sticking out from behind some residences on a hill.
We followed the path along the main road, coming to a gate that looked as if it should lead up to the ruins but was very closed. We tried to open it in vain, when suddenly from behind us came a voice...
"YOU'VE GOT TO KEEP GOING UP THE MAIN ROAD!"
We turn to see a man shouting at us from his car...which was stopped in the middle of the street...and traffic was behind him.
"...What?" we responded, puzzled by this whole situation.
"Go up the main road and stay right and you'll get there!" he yelled to us.
"Oh...okay! Thank you!"
"No problem! Have a lovely day!"
"Th...thanks!"
...And he drove on. But possibly the weirdest part of the whole situation wasn't that we had just been given directions by a random man from his car in the middle of traffic. The weirdest part was that nobody honked. Every person behind this man was totally accepting that he was stopped in front of them, and that eventually he'd get going again.
So with new direction we walked on up a slight hill, walking along streets that just screamed small European town as they wrapped around and eventually landed us here...

St. Mary's Abbey. Quite the fascinating ruin, the inside was completely barred off though plaques told of its long history. Some graves older than the country popped out at us and kept us in wonder at this old ruin. Though, the most interesting thing there wasn't actually the ruin itself.

A wild fox greeted us, initially lying down on top of a grave. It appeared to be in a bad way, limping a bit and looking rather lanky. Taking pity, Ashlen communed with this incredibly intelligent animal, offering it some oat cake we had left over from Iceland and bits of water. Incredibly grateful, it accepted each gift, though was always wary to stay out of arms reach. Within no time it was hopping, playing with various bits of plastic left behind from other passerbys like they were toys. Quite the incredible experience! We would later learn that foxes are quite the nuisance on Ireland, killing chickens and showing up everywhere, though this was the only fox we would encounter.

We explored around the rest of town for a bit, finding a lovely local church with a busker playing accordion outside. An abandoned shop front by the library told of a place that was designed to be lively and bustling, almost looking as though it was still in development even though the dilapidated sign hanging overhead told that it had long since closed down. We made our way up another hill to discover Martello Tower, an old watchtower from the 18th century that had since been repurposed and turned into an old radio museum. We arrived just as it closed, but got one more good look at the harbor.

There was still some time left in the day, so we wandered over to...

Malahide

Our only reason for going here was the castle, and having just been through the semi-magical and naturalistic Howth I was excited to see what another castle might bring.  Sad to say...it was almost like a slap in the face.

But before I get to that, I wanted to point out yet another instance of Irish hospitality.

We got off the train and were desperate for some coffee and a restroom before everything closed and so made our way into a nearby community center attached to yet another beautiful church. We made some brief conversation with our barista, which ended up turning into a long and lovely conversation with a man who was a traveling musician that used to be in a popular europop band and was finally back in Ireland after a years-long stint elsewhere. Unfortunately they had to close, and we had to make our way to the castle, but it was just one more thing that made me fall in love with Ireland and its people.

The long road to the castle from the tram station was promising. Lots of old walls with different stonework that made you wonder about its transition through the years. A beautiful conservatory peeked out from behind the trees. Another old old church/graveyard greeted us. But as you can see, there were also some worrisome signs that perhaps this place was a bit more...touristy. Giant signs pointed to bicycle rentals, shops, and the castle itself. But turning around from the church, I couldn't quite believe my eyes...

That, my friends, is a mall inside a ~17th-18th century building. I walked in, unsure of what I was looking at, and was rather appalled. It was extremely modern, and completely threw me. Ashlen and I would later talk about how the one word that seemed to describe Ireland is "nostalgia". All old things were treated as fairly sacred, even if there were hundreds of them. Yet here was a direct and blaring anachronism that showed not an ounce of nostalgia nor care. It was quite simply jarring.

The castle itself looked nice, but of course carried a fairly high price tag to enter, and we had arrived too late to get a ticket anyway. It seemed only appropriate after getting to the front door and having a bite to eat next to the lovely open grounds...that it began to rain.

We left and didn't return.

Bray

Situated at the southernmost end of the tram line, Bray is well worth your time to go out and visit.

Even though we were there well past tourist season, Bray still stood out as a vibrant seaside town with a massively long boardwalk along the beach including an aquarium, several restaurants, bed and breakfasts, and this:

There was also a path up to "Bray Head", the local mountain/large hill and well that seemed like a fun time so we decided to head up.  Unfortunately, the signage wasn't very clear and we ended up heading along a cliffside walk that connected Bray to Greystones, the next town over. We kept turning a corner along this well-used and highly populated path, looking down at the abandoned railway below, thinking the path up the massive hillside would show up...but it never did. However there was an old ruin...

Lord Meath, the former landowner, had built this lodge as a tollbooth and visitors used to be charged a penny for entry (except one day a week when he closed it and used the grounds for himself). It also is now a landmark for a cave at the water's edge that used to be essentially a pirate cove. Various banned goods from France like brandy, gin, and silks were hauled into the cave which was halfway between two major ports, hidden from sight, and reputedly had a connecting path up to the tollbooth. However, the cave was destroyed when the railway was built, thus leaving only this ruin as its memory.

As it became clear we had taken a wrong turn somewhere, we trudged back the way we came and eventually stumbled on the path up the mountain. What started off as a seemingly well-paved and structured journey up, quickly gave way to the truth: the only path was an old ravine where a river used to flow.

Thankfully there was still plenty of gorgeous trees and scenery to look at on the way up the tangled twisting and tiring path. My many years of lax physical activity since college hit me full force on the steep climb, but damn it I was determined to beat this thing and reach the top if it killed me.

On these last jagged steps, the path completely disappeared, offering only your own imagination and guile in finding a way up to the very top.  But friends, when I finally got there...well, see for yourself.

It was stunning. In the foreground, Bray. In the background, Dublin bay. Beautiful lush green countryside mixed with farms and cities and all dappled in sunlight. The tough journey up made it even more worth it. The names written on the giant cross told of years of travelers to this place, as well as the continuing stream of people willing to make the journey to the top for this view.  As we descended, the line of people heading up spoke of it as a wonderful place to watch the sunset, but it was too long for us to wait.

Instead we spent our fading light chasing the low tide and finding so many metamorphic rocks and minerals it's hard to fathom. Gems that would've been snapped up in an instant back home were here in abundance. If you're a rock hoarder, GO HERE.

In Summation
If you find yourself in/around Dublin, 1) get out of there, 2) go to Howth or Bray.  Both are relatively quick tram rides out from the city with plenty to explore and see. In Howth, make sure to hit up the church by the castle and say hi to Jim (if he appears...), the weekend market, the Dog House Tea Room for some fun ambiance, and the harbor itself. In Bray, walk along the boardwalk, collect rocks, journey up Bray Head, and even take the long walk into Greystones if you have time.

Otherwise...head to the west coast, which I'll cover next time!

To be continued...